God's way

Part 16

The air felt heavy between us, the tension building again, but this time I couldn't just stand there and take it. I had to leave. I had to get out before things escalated even further. The room felt too small, like the walls were closing in around me, and my chest felt tight with the weight of everything he'd just said.

I turned toward the door, needing space to breathe, to think clearly without the suffocating pressure of his words hanging over me. But before I could take a step, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, rough and tight. It hurt, and I winced as his fingers dug into my skin. I turned back, surprised and alarmed at the intensity in his eyes. It wasn't just desperation anymore-there was something darker there, something almost wild.

"Do you want me to try to kill myself again?" he hissed, his grip tightening, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes were wide, frantic, as if he was on the edge of something I couldn't pull him back from.

My heart skipped a beat, a cold wave of fear rushing over me. I tried to pull my hand away, but he held on even tighter.

"Let go," I said, my voice shaking. The panic was rising in my chest, and I could feel my breath quickening, like I couldn't get enough air. "Please, stop."

He ignored my words, his face twisting into something I barely recognized.

"You don't get it, do you?" he spat, his voice filled with anger and pain. "You can't fucking leave me, Adma. Do you understand that? If you walk out that door, I swear to God I'll do it. I'll fucking kill myself."

"You need help, Sayjan," I said, my voice catching as I fought to keep the fear from overwhelming me. "Real help. I can't be the one to fix this for you."

His eyes flashed with something like regret, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a look of pure desperation.

"You don't understand," he said, shaking his head wildly. "You're the only thing keeping me together. If you leave, there's nothing left for me. Nothing."

"Sayjan, you can't say that," I whispered, my voice trembling, tears welling up in my eyes. "You can't use that against me. You can't threaten me like this."

His grip on my wrist didn't loosen. He looked at me, his face crumpling into a mix of anger and despair.

"You're all I have," he said, his voice breaking. "If you leave, what else is there? What am I supposed to do without you?"

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I froze, staring at him in disbelief, my mind racing. It was like everything had shifted in an instant, the fragile hope from just moments ago shattering into a million pieces. I'd seen him broken before, but never like this. Never so raw and threatening, like he was dangling off the edge of a cliff and willing to drag me down with him.

With as much strength as I could muster, I pulled my wrist free from his grip, taking a step back. My skin was red where his fingers had dug in, and the pain was still throbbing. I looked at him, tears streaming down my face now, a mixture of anger, sadness, and fear.

He stared at me, the anger fading, replaced with a deep, gut-wrenching sadness. He sank to the floor, his hands covering his face as he started to sob, broken and raw. It was a sound that tore through me, but I couldn't move. I couldn't go to him this time. Not after what he'd just said.

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat almost unbearable.

"I'm going to leave now," I said, my voice shaky but firm.

He didn't respond, just kept crying, his sobs filling the room. I took a deep breath, turning and walking toward the door. My hands were shaking as I reached for the handle, and I paused, looking back at him one last time. It broke my heart to leave him like this, but I knew I had to.

I was gripping the door handle, desperate to get out, to escape the suffocating tension of the room. But before I could twist it open, Sayjan's voice boomed behind me, filled with a fury l'd never heard before.

"Become Muslim," his words slamming into me like a physical blow.

I flinched, my whole body tensing up as I turned to face him. His eyes were wild, his face twisted with a mix of rage and fear.

"You have to! If you don't, my parents
—they'll kill you. They'll kill us both if they finds out we've been together like this. You don't understand how serious this is!"

I stared at him, my breath coming in shallow gasps, my mind racing. The way he looked at me-like I was both his salvation and his downfall—it scared me to my core. I shook my head, tears blurring my vision.

"No," I whispered, my voice barely steady. "You can't force me into this."

Something snapped in him. Before I could react, he lunged toward a chair by the corner, grabbing a headscarf that had been draped over it. His movements were frantic, like a man possessed. I tried to back away, but he was too quick. He grabbed me by the arm, yanking me forward.

"Put it on!" he snarled, his eyes burning with a desperate, crazed light. He roughly shoved the veil over my head, pulling it tight around my hair.

I struggled, trying to push him away, but he was too strong. His hands were shaking as he fumbled with the fabric, his breathing ragged and uneven.

"Let me go!" I cried, my voice high and panicked. I tried to pull away, my hands clawing at the fabric as he wound it tighter, forcing it around my neck. He pushed me hard against the door, pinning me there, his grip iron-like as he tied the hijab roughly around my throat.

"Say you'll become Muslim! If you don't, we're both dead. Do you get that? My mother will kill us for this!"

I could barely breathe, the fabric constricting around my throat, cutting off my air. I felt the panic rise in me like a wave, my chest heaving as I tried to gasp for breath.

"No," I choked out, tears streaming down my face.

His eyes darkened, something dangerous flickering in them. Without warning, his hands moved to the hijab, and he pulled it tighter, the fabric digging into my neck. I couldn't breathe. I clawed at his hands, desperate, the room starting to spin around me. My vision blurred, spots dancing before my eyes as I felt my strength slipping away.

"Do it!" he screamed, his voice breaking. "Say it, Adma!"

I could barely make out his face through the haze of my tears and the darkening edges of my vision. I tried to speak, but no sound came out. The only thing I could manage was a weak gasp, my fingers gripping his wrists, trying to push him away, but I was losing strength. Everything felt distant, the sounds around me muffled like I was underwater. My body felt heavy, the fight draining out of me. Just as I thought I might black out, something shifted in his face.

His expression changed from anger to sheer horror as he realized what he was doing. His grip loosened, and he let go of the veil, stepping back as if he'd been burned. I crumpled to the floor, gasping for air, my hands clutching at my throat as I sucked in desperate, heaving breaths.

"Oh my God," he whispered, stumbling back. "Adma, I-" His voice broke, the rage replaced by a look of pure terror. He stared at his hands as if they belonged to someone else, as if he couldn't believe what they'd just done.

I didn't wait for him to say anything more. I pushed myself up from the floor, ripping the veil from my head, my breaths still ragged and painful.

My throat burned, and I could feel the hot, salty taste of tears running down my cheeks. Without a word, I turned and yanked the door open, stumbling out into the cold air of the hallway.

I didn't look back.